When you can’t have snow for Christmas, I suppose rain is the next best thing.
Actually, it might be better than snow, considering that you don’t have to shovel it.
But my inflatable yard decorations didn’t appreciate the downpour.
The people who’ve been doing the snow dances in southwest Colorado — and you know who you are — must have gotten some of the steps wrong, or else they were dancing to the wrong music, because the promised precipitation on Christmas Day came down in wet drizzles. The only snowflakes I saw were some hopeful but childish symbols made of paper, taped to the window of my neighbors’ house.
It could have been worse, of course. Southern California got record rains on Christmas Eve, continuing through Christmas Day. Mudslides, washed out roads, power outages. So be grateful for small favors, as my mom used to say.
I spent a couple of years in the Seattle area, back when Darlene was finishing up her bachelors degree, and got to experience two exceptionally wet Christmases. As I recall, eggnog was helpful.
In fact, I had a strong hankering for eggnog as I looked out the window on Christmas morning, but the grocery stores were all closed.
I won’t make the same mistake next year.
I’m assuming, of course, that this is not an isolated incident. Rain on Christmas in Colorado. I saw the news articles last week about the move to dismantle the National Center for Atmospheric Research in Boulder, which as we all know has been a “a source of climate alarmism” since 1966, and is finally getting broken up by the federal government. Not a moment too soon, some would say.
There can hardly be anything as dangerous as climate alarmism.
But I have to wonder about the connection. Did this move to break up NCAR result in my inflatable yard ornaments getting soaked? I mean, once you break up a federal agency that’s been alarming us about the climate since 1966, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men might not be able to put NCAR back together again. Should we ever want to.
Luckily, technology forges ahead. Human progress continues unabated.
I have no doubt that by next Christmas, we will have rain-resistant yard ornaments.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all. You can read more stories on his Substack account.